TITLE: The Little Death AUTHOR: Annette Gisby EMAIL: annette.gisby@which.net RATING: strong R, maybe NC-17. MSR ARCHIVE: gossamer, ephemeral, spooky's etc. DEDICATED: to Hummingbird, Mel, Jamie, Caryl, Vanessa, Jen, Becky and Sonia (my one woman fan club!) and everyone else who begged me for a sequel, I just hope I've done it justice! THR LITTLE DEATH or LA PETITE MORT II "I feel like I want to lose control." Mulder held his breath. Would she say what he'd been waiting to hear for over six years? His prayers were answered as soon as she spoke. "I want to lose control with you." "Scully, do you know what you just said? What it means?" "Of course I do. Do you think I haven't thought about this? I know exactly what I'm saying, what I'm asking of you. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way, but I had to let you know." She looked away from him and stared out the windscreen. Mulder reached out a hand to her face. Cupping her cheek, he turned her to face him. There were silent tears trickling down his cheeks and he stared into her eyes for the longest time. Scully felt as though time had stopped. Nothing else existed except her, Mulder and this moment. Nothing else had any meaning. She got the impression that if aliens had suddenly landed outside the car right then, Mulder wouldn't even care, or notice. His mind was entirely focused on her and it felt wonderful. He didn't have to say anything. She knew, just from looking into his eyes that he felt the same way. His face loomed closer to hers and she leaned a little bit closer to him and closed her eyes. The waiting was an exquisite torture, but it was nothing compared to the feeling when his lips finally met hers for the first time. It was as though she'd been hit by lightning. She felt like she was falling and drowning into him. His hand caressed her hair, her neck, her back and something resembling a growl escaped her throat. His tongue teased her lips and teeth until she felt her mouth open of its own accord to admit him fully. His hand traced a line from the curve of her neck and down to her collarbone and she shivered, feeling icy fingers against the warmth of her skin. She felt sick and dizzy with desire. Desire for him and she knew it was love, not lust. She had never felt like this before with any man, not even when they kissed and caressed her. Those caresses were as nothing compared to the feelings she had when she just received a certain look from Mulder, or a touch which was normally all too fleeting. She fell deeper into his kiss, not wanting it to end. Mulder's mouth left hers to suckle on her earlobe and she let out a surprised gasp. She hadn't realised she was so sensitive there, and her hand reached out to grab Mulder's arm to ground her. She felt as if she would float away at any moment. Mulder kissed a trail from her neck down to the open vee of her blouse. He began to undo the rest of the buttons one by one. She didn't stop him. She didn't want to stop him. His hands were surprisingly deft considering their size and she thought that he had done this before. A lot. The thought brought her up cold and she placed a hand on top of his to stop him. He looked up at her. "Scully?" "I'm sorry, Mulder. I can't do this. Not here. I'm sorry." "It's okay, Scully. It's not as if we're horny teenagers, is it?" He glanced at his watch as some headlights approached them. "Looks like our relief is here anyway. Good job we stopped when we did. I'll drive you home." The lights in front of them flashed twice to let them know they were officially off duty. Scully leaned back in her seat as Mulder drove off. Her blouse was still half undone and she felt flustered and hot. She wondered if the other agents had seen anything. She smiled to herself when she realised why she was so flustered. It *was* because she felt like a horny teenager and the other agents turning up were like being caught by her parents. Not that it had ever happened to her as a teenager, but she guessed the pounding heart and the dry mouth would have been the same. "Do you want to come in?" asked Scully once they'd reached her building and he parked the car. "Do you want me to?" asked Mulder. "Yes. I do." ****** She felt self-conscious and nervous as he followed her to the elevator. By asking him in, she was asking for more than just his presence. Could she go through with it? It was a big step, one she'd pondered on many a lonely night, when all she wanted was to be asleep in his arms. But now that she'd started the wheels in motion, she wasn't sure they could be stopped if she wanted to. Mulder stood by the door, looking as nervous as she felt and leaned an arm on the doorframe. He made a beautiful silhouette outlined by the light from the hall and she felt her heart lodge somewhere in her throat as he moved closer to her. She was trembling, whether from desire or fear she didn't know. Mulder's hands touched her cheeks, gently removing the moisture there. She hadn't even realised she was crying. "Ssh, Scully. It's okay. We don't have to do this tonight. It's a big step." "I know." It was a giant step, it felt as though she was about to jump off a cliff and once she stepped off, there would be no turning back. Was she really ready for this? Mulder reached out and touched her shoulders. Her skin felt tense and knotted. "Would you like me to give you a massage?" asked Mulder. Scully could only nod. She was beyond words as she walked over to the sofa and sat down on the edge. Mulder sat beside her at first and then climbed behind her, placing his legs on either side of her hips, so that she was cradled within them. She could hear his ragged breathing, it matched her own. He began by gently rubbing the nape of her neck, his hands as light as a feather. When he moved to her shoulders, she shook with the force of desire which flowed through her. It wasn't the touch of his hands, rather it was the thought that it was Mulder doing this to her. "Take off your blouse," he whispered into her ear and she obeyed with clumsy fingers. But finally she was free of the garment and tossed it onto the floor at her feet. Mulder's hands on her bare skin were like ice to a flame, she felt so hot. He kneaded her back and shoulders until she felt her flesh melt and soften under his touch. A moan she couldn't control escaped her when his hands reached forward and touched briefly the swell of her breasts, before resuming their task at her back. She heard his sharp intake of breath and was bereft when his touch left her for a few moments. When he touched her again, it was at the site of her tattoo. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment, even though he couldn't see her face. She squirmed on the sofa as he touched her there, at first gently, almost reverently, but gradually harder and harder, as though he knew. Knew how sensitive she was there. As his touch became rougher, she felt the dampness between her legs increase. There was a delicious ache at the juncture of her thighs. Almost as if he knew, Mulder's left hand snaked around her hips and pressed between her legs, through the fabric of her jeans and panties. "Oh God! Mulder!" she was almost screaming, bucking against his hand, yearning for something, needing something more. "I love you, Scully," he whispered hoarsely and suddenly she was there. She was coming, coming, she was flying, soaring and she shuddered with the force of her orgasm and slumped against him, feeling his strong arms wrap around her to hold her and keep her safe. "Did you come?" asked Mulder, kissing her hair. "No, I died a little death." END feedback appreciated at annette.gisby@which.net